Came Back Wrong
by Fanfic Allergy
Summary: The rescue of Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta, and Johanna Mason was executed to perfection. Everything went right until their rescuers realized things had gone horribly wrong. Dark!Fic (Minor Everlark & Odesta for characterization) Winner of Round 4 of Write-Me-A-Story HG Challenge on Tumblr.
1. The Rescue

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

Warning: This story is dark. Really dark. Like Shakespearian tragedy dark. There's character death, self-sacrifice, people being awful to each other, etc. What there isn't is any kind of romance or sex. The rating is purely because of the horror and gore elements. AKA if you thought the hijacking of Peeta was bad - this is worse. If you're looking for smut, or anything even remotely light, hit the back button now.

Otherwise, I don't want to hear about how I didn't warn you.

-Z-

**Came Back Wrong  
><strong>_**By FanficAllergy**_

-Z-

_**1. The Rescue**_

-Z-

They've gone to rescue Peeta!

I can hardly contain myself as I pace the floor of the control room. They wanted me to do a propo to broadcast while the team rescues Peeta and the others. But I couldn't concentrate, staring off into the distance, snapping at Cressida and Plutarch, being even more useless than normal. Peeta. Peeta. Peeta. My heart beats a steady tattoo of his name. Over and over all I can think of is Peeta.

"The targets have been acquired from the holding facility," a nameless technician states in a monotone. "Commencing extraction."

"He'll be home soon," Finnick whispers in my ear, his eyes fixed on the screen showing the moving dots of the extraction team.

"Do you think Annie's with them?" I ask.

"I hope so." His tone is so wistful.

I squeeze his hand. I know what he's feeling. The anxiety. The hope. We both lost someone to the Capitol and now we're about to get them back.

"Rescue flight is two hours out," the technician says. "There's been some casualties. Medical, prepare to stand by for emergency response."

Casualties! The word lances through my heart like an arrow. Not Peeta. Please not Peeta.

Finnick's hand clutches mine, indicating he's as concerned about Annie as I am about Peeta.

"You should go," Plutarch Heavesbee says from behind us. "There's nothing you can do here." The fact that we're in the way and not wanted is implied.

"I'm going to the surface," I announce, daring anyone to challenge me.

"And I'm going with her," Finnick declares.

We get a few odd looks, but no one objects. Good. They've learned.

Finnick and I grab our weapons and hunting jackets and head to the surface. The air in District Thirteen is stale and recycled so whenever I reach the surface, I take several minutes to breathe in the fresh crisp air full of pine and leaves and life. I'm too keyed up to hunt, but I go through the motions anyway. Finnick follows. He's not as loud as Peeta or as quiet as Gale but his experience in the Games shows. He's a hunter, like me.

We spend the next two hours out in the woods of Thirteen until we hear the sound of the approaching hovercrafts. Abandoning all pretense of stealth, Finnick and I race back to the entrance of Thirteen and our returning loved ones. We shove our weapons into the hands of a waiting sentry and don't bother to slow down.

Peeta!

Peeta's here!

We run through the twists and turns of the concrete maze that is District Thirteen toward the hangar bay. Finnick and I want to be the first to greet our loved ones and, even more, I need to tell Peeta just how much he means to me.

As we round the corner to the hangar, Finnick and I are drawn up short by Haymitch standing in front of the doors with his arms crossed. "This is as far as you go," he says.

"Get out of my way!" I order my mentor.

"No."

"Haymitch, I've known and respected you for years. But if you don't move right now, I'm going to punch you where you stand." Finnick's voice is low and carefully measured and utterly devoid of any of his usual charm.

Still, the older man refuses to back down. "Doesn't matter. You're still not gonna go in there. Not 'til we get the all clear from the medics."

"What happened?"

"They ain't sure yet. The reports are pretty garbled. Everyone got out okay but something's not right. The three of them, Johanna, Peeta, and Annie, they're different. Wrong."

My heart sinks. "Wrong how?"

"Ain't rightly sure. That's what the medical check is for. All I know is that girl of yours, Finnick, she put up one hell of a fight."

Beside me, Finnick slumps. Normally I'd try to comfort him, but I have only one thought on my mind. "What about Peeta?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "I don't know. Coin's keeping the particulars close to the vest. Shooed non-essential personnel out of the control room when the reports started to come in."

"When can we see them?" Finnick asks. His eyes are intent and I can see that he's poised to try to take down Haymitch if he doesn't get an answer he likes.

I feel much the same way.

"Why don't we head down to Medical and ask?" Haymitch suggests.

My eyes narrow. I could dart around Haymitch to try to get through the door. I'm quick and he's still recovering from the effects of not having a drink for months. But there's something in his tone and face that makes me believe I'm better off not trying. "Fine," I say after a moment.

"Good, let's go."

-Z-

There's chaos in Medical when we get there. Doctors, nurses, and technicians are running to and fro shouting contradictory orders at each other.

"What's happening?!" I shout at one of the white coated doctors as he runs by.

He ignores me.

Finnick reaches out and snags a technician and repeats the question.

"We don't know," the man answers, his eyes darting about frantically. "The Capitol did something."

"What?!" Finnick demands, shaking the man. "What'd the Capitol do? Tell me!"

"I don't know! Let me go! I've got to get these samples to the lab!" The man holds up two vials of dark red liquid.

"Is that blood?" I ask in disbelief. Fresh blood is brighter, redder, than that.

The technician nods in Finnick's grasp. "Yes. That's why you need to let me go. We have to know what's wrong so we can fix it!"

Finnick releases the man, who immediately scurries off. "So now what?"

"Now you two kids get out of the way," Haymitch tells us.

"Not until I see Peeta," I say stubbornly.

Haymitch sighs. "And I suppose you aren't going anywhere until you see Annie?" he asks, looking at Finnick.

"You know it," Finnick states.

"Well that's just peachy." He scrubs one hand over his face and I can see just how exhausted my mentor is. "You know, you're both stubborn as mules."

"Takes one to know one," I shoot back. It's a juvenile taunt and I know it, but all I want is see Peeta. I need to see him. I need to know he's okay.

"Fine! But stay on this side of the glass. You heard that tech; the Capitol did something to them."

I nod, already intent on finding Peeta. The first room I look into holds Johanna. Two doctors are struggling to hold her down while a nurse approaches her with a syringe. The victor from Seven flails and kicks wildly. Her hair is shorn and her skin pale. But it's her eyes that root me to the floor. I'd expected them to be snapping and wild. But they're not. They're glazed over. Vacant. Empty. The sarcastic woman who taunted the Capitol is gone.

I shiver.

I turn and move toward another of the rooms. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Finnick being held back from entering an exam room by two men in uniform. He must have found Annie.

I watch Finnick struggle and fight until Haymitch comes over to help talk him down. Part of me is curious about just what Finnick saw. But a much more insistent part tells me I need to find Peeta.

The next room holds two of the extraction team. One has what looks like a bullet wound in his upper arm while the other man's face is scratched almost beyond recognition. Almost. The olive skin and black hair give away the man's identity. It's Gale.

"What happened to him?" I ask one of the doctors observing at the window.

"He tried to keep Mellark from attacking one of our orderlies, a girl of about fourteen. Got bitten and scratched for his trouble." The man is dispassionate.

The only person that Gale would protect so vehemently is Prim. I look around for my sister and find her huddled in a chair, her knees drawn up to her chest. She seems to be okay, just scared. I want to go to her but I still need to find Peeta. Prim can wait. I must locate Peeta.

And I do. I peer into the next room and I see him. He's pacing the room listlessly as if searching for a way out but not finding one. He's pale, like he hasn't seen the sun in months, and I can make out the dark labyrinth of veins under his skin. He appears uninjured but there's something about the way he's moving that makes me concerned. It's stilted. Uneven. I wonder if his leg is bothering him and if he needs help adjusting the prosthetic. Without thinking, I open the door and step inside to help him do just that.

It's a mistake.

The lethargy that Peeta displayed moments before falls away and he lunges at me.

I dodge instinctively but he follows my movement.

His hands are outstretched and curled into claws like an animal. He lunges again.

I dive to my left, further into the room, and try to get the bed between him and me.

It doesn't work.

Peeta grabs hold of me and I get my first real look at his face. His mouth is open and gaping but his eyes are dead. There's no emotion or feeling in them. They aren't even focused on me. He leans down to try to bite at my neck but I manage to deflect his attempt to my shoulder. I feel his teeth sink in and I'm grateful I'm still wearing my jacket from outside. The thick fabric lessens the blow, but I know I'm going to be bruised from the attempt.

"Help!" I cry out, struggling in Peeta's grasp. I kick out with my feet and that's probably what saves me.

My foot connects with his prosthetic and he goes down.

Seizing the moment, I run. The second I'm through the door, I slam it shut and look for a way to lock it.

There isn't one.

I glance through the window and see Peeta on the floor, his prosthetic half hanging off of his leg, his hands reaching out as he tries to crawl after me. He isn't moving far or fast, but he is moving.

Unable to look anymore, I slide to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest. What's happened to him? What has the Capitol done to him? To all of them?

A doctor and nurse come over to me. "Did you go inside?" the doctor, a woman with an ashy pallor, asks me.

I nod.

"What'd he do?" the nurse asks.

"He attacked me," I say woodenly. I'm in shock. I can't believe that Peeta attacked me.

The two share a glance. "Did he bite you?" The nurse's tone is high pitched, like he's on the verge of a breakdown.

I nod again and see a look of pure horror spread across both of their faces.

"Where?" the woman asks.

I point to my shoulder.

The doctor crouches down to inspect it. Some of the horror fades when she realizes that Peeta's bite hadn't broken my skin, but she's still clearly concerned. "Anything else? Scratches?"

I shake my head. Other than the bruises I got in the struggle I'm unhurt.

Except that's a lie.

-Z-

**AN:**

Written: 10/27/14  
>Revised 1: 1027/14  
>Revised 2: 1112/14  
>Revised 3: 1113/14  
>Beta Read by: RoseFyre<p>

This was written for the Write-Me-A-Story Hunger Games Challenge on Tumblr, where it was the Popular Vote Winner. The Challenge was to write a horror/supernatural/gore story inspired by a picture from TV or a Movie. I was honestly inspired by a lot of things (Walking Dead, The Stand, Outbreak, Night of the Living Dead, Shaun of the Dead, etc.). It was written in haste and so I'm doing some revisions as a break from frantic NaNoWriMo writing.

The story is complete and is in six parts. I will be publishing the chapters on those days that I don't have anything else scheduled to be published. The schedule is on my tumblr which is the same name as my penname.

Let me know what you think!


	2. The Disease

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Came Back Wrong  
><strong>_**By FanficAllergy**_

-Z-

_**2. The Disease**_

-Z-

The atmosphere in the conference room is tense. Doctors, soldiers, politicians, along with Finnick, Haymitch and myself, all crowd into the small room. So many people, but there's only one topic of conversation: the rescue operation from four days ago. Everyone has an opinion on what went wrong and what should be done about it and they're all discussing it with the people around them.

Loudly.

President Coin sits in her chair at the head of the table and lets the assorted people speak for several minutes before getting to her feet. "Everyone!" she projects, trying to start the meeting.

No one hears her over the din.

She fiddles with something at her waist. "Everyone!" she tries again. This time her voice is amplified.

The room turns to look at her.

"Now that I have your attention," she fiddles with the microphone box again. "Can you please settle down so we can discuss things civilly and logically?"

There's a grumbling from the room but everyone finds a seat or place to stand. Finnick, Haymitch, and myself are next to Plutarch Heavesbee near the head of the table. Across from us are Boggs and the head medical doctor, Pierre Lund, along with his top researcher, Dr. Jamie Beecham.

When everyone's situated, Coin begins. "Now, I understand from Commander Boggs that the rescue operation was executed by the book. The team was inserted with no obstacle, and the intel we had received on where to find the targets was accurate. From insertion to acquisition took less than ten minutes. Is that correct?"

She looks over at Boggs who nods his head. "That's correct, ma'am."

"Tell the room what happened next," she orders.

The large soldier sighs and rubs one hand over his shaved head. "When we got to the prisoners, we found only a few guards placed around their cells. Taking the guards out was no problem and we accomplished that in no time. Once we got the cells unlocked, the situation, pardon the expression, went all to hell." He pauses to collect his thoughts. "The first sign that things were fubar was when the prisoner Annie Cresta launched herself at Lieutenant Mickleson. Now we'd been warned ahead of time that she's delicate so we brought tranqs to deal with such an eventuality. We got them into her, but not before she mauled Mickleson something fierce. Mason and Mellark came along calmly enough, although looking back they seemed a bit out of it. Almost like there was no one home upstairs if you catch my meaning."

Coin nods and motions for Boggs to continue.

"We ran into minor resistance on our way to the extraction point, and Soldier Lacroix was shot in his upper arm. The sight of Lacroix's blood seemed to awaken something in Mason and Mellark and they became quite agitated. After seeing Cresta lose it earlier, I made the call that Mason and Mellark should be tranquilized for the trip home. The flight back was relatively uneventful, although Mickleson seemed to be having some kind of allergic reaction to Cresta's bites. The medic on board disinfected the wounds and patched him up. I requested that Medical meet us at the hangar bay to evaluate and begin treatment on Cresta, Mason, and Mellark. You know the rest, ma'am."

"Indeed, I do," she says. "Thank you, Commander. Doctor Lund, I believe you're up next."

The thin man with thick glasses and a sharply hooked nose stands up. "When the extraction team touched down, my people were there waiting. We found that the tranquilizers used on the patients had mostly worn off despite having been given a very high dosage of the drug. All three were agitated and hostile. Several of my team sustained bites and scratches while attempting to subdue them. An additional dose of sedative was administered with limited success. However, we were able to placate them long enough to get them to the Infirmary. There, nurses and their assistants attempted to catalogue their injuries. Please note, I said attempt. The three, despite being medicated, fought against their caretakers, with Mellark being the most hostile." He motions at me. "Mellark attempted to maul Miss Everdeen's sister when she tried to take his temperature. If it weren't for Soldier Hawthorne, I am certain he would have succeeded. As it was, Hawthorne sustained major lacerations to his face and hands from Mellark's nails and teeth. It was then decided that we needed to immediately test the three for hallucinogenics, psychotics, and other drugs to see if that was the cause of their hostility." He pauses to take in the reactions of the room.

Coin leans back in her chair. "Go on."

"At Dr. Beecham's suggestion, we also obtained additional samples of blood, hair, and saliva to test for various other pathogens."

"And what did you find?" Coin prompts.

Dr. Lund turns to Dr. Beecham and has her take the floor. The woman gets to her feet. She's tall, with reddish brown hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. I wonder, inanely, how she got them, since most of the citizens of Thirteen spend their whole lives underground. She clears her throat several times, clearly uncomfortable speaking in front of so many people. "Our lab techs analyzed the samples and found, other than the sedatives we'd administered, there were no signs of any drugs in any of the three's systems. Bacterial smears also came back negative. As did fungal, parasite, and protozoan cultures. We did get a hit on viral scans but results were inconclusive and because of that we couldn't identify the strain. The virus's DNA seemed to be, well, for lack of a better word, odd. Additionally, it was noted that the blood we'd collected from the patients seemed to congeal at a greater than normal rate."

"Odd how?" one of the politicians asks before Coin can.

The president shoots the man a sharp glance. "Thank you, Giles." Her tone is crisp and the reprimand is clear. This is her show. She turns back to Dr. Beecham. "What do you mean by odd?"

"That's just it, we don't know. We've never seen anything like it before. It has none of the redundancies and formations that you see in a typical virus. It's just odd and that raised a lot of red flags." She took a deep breath. "One of my techs suggested we attempt to get a piece of brain tissue from one of the patients, since the disease appears to be neurological in nature. We selected Mason as our test subject."

Beside me, Haymitch stiffens.

"We were able to extract a small sample from Mason. During the procedure, a nurse observed that Mason's vitals were substantially below normal. Her blood pressure was 65 over 40, her temperature was 90.2 degrees Fahrenheit and her heart rate was forty beats per minute. All of which would typically indicate coma, or even death. Yet Mason was still struggling against her restraints, which with readings like that she shouldn't have been. We were able to analyze the tissue extracted and noted that it had a spongy architecture. This is indicative of a prion. We went back to the labs and ran additional tests, and were able to conclude that the disease is a virus/prion hybrid that seems to cause severe neurological damage as well as necrosis in the hosts."

Coin frowns. "Was it manufactured?"

"Most likely. It's too, well, unnatural to be anything else."

"And just how contagious is the disease?" Coin asks next.

"It's not airborne, thank goodness." Around me I hear people breathing a sigh of relief. "Nor does it seem to be transmissible via water. If I had to guess, you'd need to be injected or have the illness introduced through the mucous membranes."

Haymitch raises his hand. "Can you repeat that in language most of us can understand?"

Dr. Beecham sighs. "It's transmitted via blood, saliva, or other bodily fluids. So I wouldn't let them bite, kiss, or spit on you. Is that clear enough?"

"Yes, thank you." Haymitch puts his hand down and sits back in his chair.

"The disease seems to be very short lived outside of the host's body and is easily eliminated through standard decontamination procedures. That's the good news."

"And the bad?" Coin asks.

"As of right now, there is no known cure and we do not have enough information to even attempt to synthesize a vaccine. Antivirals seem to slow the onset of symptoms but do not halt them. Probably because of the hybridization. We've given antivirals to those exposed on the retrieval mission and they seem to be helping. However, there seems to be no effect on Cresta, Mellark, or Mason."

"How long until symptoms appear?"

"The incubation period is fairly short. Anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two hours after exposure, although considering the artificial nature of this disease, the actual incubation time is a guess."

"Thank you, Doctor."

The woman gratefully sits back down.

Coin leans forward and surveys the room. "In light of this development, there is only one conclusion I can draw. President Snow was tipped off to our plans and deliberately infected Cresta, Mason, and Mellark with this disease. The objective is clear, he hoped to cripple or eradicate District Thirteen, and with it the Rebellion."

There are several murmurs of agreement around the room and I feel the blood in my veins turn to ice.

"It is also clear what our solution is." Her pale eyes are hard.

"You don't mean..." one of the doctors, an old man with a heavily lined face, gasps.

"The carriers of this plague must be eliminated for the good of the whole."

"No!" Finnick jumps to his feet. "You can't be proposing to put down Annie, Peeta and Johanna like they're rabid dogs!"

Coin regards him coldly. "That is exactly what I am proposing. They are obviously no longer the people they once were and are a clear and present danger to this District. Additionally, any of the people infected by them who have progressed to the point of displaying symptoms of the disease will also be eliminated. It's better to cut the infection out than to let it fester."

Several people blanch.

"How many people are we talking about here, Alma?" Haymitch asks in an offhand manner that I know is a lie.

"Nine," she answers quickly. "In addition to Mason, Cresta, and Mellark there are Mickleson and Hawthorne of the extraction team and medical staff Davis, Pelt, Chang, and Holland."

"That's inhuman!" I cry, jumping to my feet. "How can you even be considering this?!"

Coin's jaw tightens. "It's my job, Miss Everdeen. I have to think of the welfare of my people and the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"You're wrong!" I turn to Dr. Beecham. "You said the antivirals are help some, right? Isn't it enough to create a cure or something?"

The freckled woman looks at me sadly. "I wish it were that easy, Miss Everdeen. But it's not. Cures and vaccines take time. It'd help if we had a survivor to work with, but we don't."

"You can't condone this!"

She shakes her head but doesn't say anything. Her eyes are sympathetic.

"This isn't right! None of this is right!" Finnick snarls, glaring at everyone in the room.

"You promised!" I shout at Coin. "You promised in front of all of Thirteen that you'd spare Peeta, Annie and Johanna! If you kill Peeta or Gale or any of them, you'll have to find yourself another Mockingjay!"

"Enough, Miss Everdeen!" she snaps. "That arrangement was made before the possibility of an epidemic entered our midst. I will not be held hostage by an out-of-date agreement when the lives of my people are at stake." She addresses the room. "My decision stands. Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, all of those infected with this disease will be eliminated for the good of the whole."

I collapse back into my chair, huge sobs wracking my body.

I can't believe this is happening.

-Z-

**AN:**

Written: 10/27/14  
>Revised: 1027/14  
>Revised 2: 1113/14  
>Beta Read by RoseFyre<p> 


	3. The Cure

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Came Back Wrong  
><strong>_**By FanficAllergy**_

-Z-

_**3. The Cure**_

-Z-

The following morning comes, even though I wish it wouldn't. I don't want to watch Thirteen execute nine innocent people but I have to, for Peeta and Gale. I need to see their final moments so that when I kill President Snow I can carve the moment into his flesh.

Never have I hated that old man quite as much as I do right now. He wanted for Peeta and my relationship to be real; he's going to find out just what that means.

I dress in the drab regulation coveralls and make my way to the Infirmary, skipping breakfast. I couldn't eat now if I wanted to; my stomach is roiling with anger, sadness, and despair.

The air is subdued when I enter the Infirmary. The feeling is appropriate. I walk from room to room saying goodbye to the people inside. It doesn't matter if I knew them or not. They're all Snow's victims and they deserve my respect. Prim's there, standing in front of the room holding Gale. Knowing her, she's feeling guilty that Gale's about to be executed for saving her. I want to say something comforting to her, but I can't.

At eight fifty seven, Coin enters the room along with Boggs, Plutarch Heavesbee, and several soldiers. A few seconds before nine, Haymitch staggers in.

I slip up to him. "Where's Finnick?"

"With Beetee and your Ma in Beetee's lab. Your Ma needed to sedate the boy after he went off the rails last night stating that he was gonna free Annie and everyone else."

I nod. Finnick's been on the edge of a break for months now. I'm not surprised that yesterday's events have pushed him over.

Coin starts issuing orders and several doctors and soldiers suit up in weird bulky suits. Then they enter Johanna's room first. She's the only one of the nine infected who is restrained although it's clear that the woman has been struggling to get free from the bed where she's strapped down. Her arms and legs are all chafed and raw. One of the suited doctors is carrying a tray laden with several different kinds of syringes. They start with one of the far ones and inject it into Johanna's vein.

Nothing happens.

Minutes pass and still there's nothing.

One of the soldiers looks at Coin, who makes an impatient motion.

They try another syringe and then another with no result. Johanna's still moving, still struggling to break free. She never makes a sound. In fact, none of the infected vocalizes anything.

"Now what?" Coin asks Dr. Lund. "Obviously humane execution isn't going to work."

"We could try electrocution," the man suggests.

"Or we could just shoot them," Plutarch offers from next to Coin. "Finnick did say yesterday that they were rabid dogs."

Coin purses her mouth. "We'll go with your suggestion, Heavesbee. It's more efficient." She makes a motion to Boggs and several other soldiers to take out their firearms. "Go in the room and on the count of three, fire. Try not to aim for the face, we will need to send a message to Snow that we will not be intimidated and we cannot do that if the weapons he sent us are unrecognizable."

The five men nod and enter the room, leaving the door open, and line up along the far wall. On Boggs's order they each aim their weapon at Johanna's chest.

Three.

Johanna manages to free one of her legs.

Two.

Haymitch tenses beside me.

One.

They fire. The bullets rip apart her chest and arms, severing the straps on the restraints holding her down.

Coin looks at Johanna's still form dispassionately. "Well, that seems to have worked. On to the next."

The next is the technician we'd questioned four days ago. The one with the vials of congealed blood. I wish I knew his name.

Three soldiers step into the room and the technician starts to rush them. The men open fire causing the infected man's body to jerk and reel. Several bullets miss the technician's torso and lodge in his legs, arms and throat. Then he slumps to the ground. Just another casualty.

Up next are Gale and the other soldier, Mickleson. Just as before, a team of soldiers steps into the room holding the infected men, however this time Gale and Mickleson seem to be waiting for them. They rush the five men, arms outstretched and grasping, mouths gaping. The soldiers fire on the two, but unlike with Johanna and the technician, Gale and Mickleson don't stop.

They don't stop.

Mickleson rips the right arm off of Boggs with an inhuman show of strength and throws it away, like it's a piece of trash.

Pandemonium rips through the Infirmary. Some people scramble for the exits while others leap in to try to help. Someone, in their panic to find the exit, manages to open several of the doors to the rooms holding the other infected patients. The diseased surge out of the rooms and start attacking people indiscriminately.

It's chaos.

Then there are those people like myself and Haymitch, who seem to be frozen in place. I'm not sure what to do. Part of me is pleased to see Gale fighting back. Except I know it's not Gale, not anymore. It's the disease and the disease wants to live.

A flash of motion to my left catches my eye. It's President Coin. She's taken several steps back and is now standing in the doorway of Johanna's room, her pale eyes wide. She's watching the action in front of her helplessly. She doesn't have a weapon but can't seem to bring herself to leave.

It's a mistake.

A pale, bloody hand reaches out and yanks on Coin's ankle, pulling her off balance and onto the floor.

It's Johanna.

Her torso is shredded and bleeding sluggishly but she's managed to pull herself along the ground to Coin.

The older woman struggles and kicks, but Johanna's got her held tight. The diseased victor gnaws at Coin's leg and foot, using Coin's clothing to drag her body up the fallen woman toward the president's face.

One of the soldiers notices Coin's plight and rushes over, kicking Johanna in the face and back into the room.

Coin looks over at me and meets my eyes. This execution has taken a horrible turn. Getting to her feet, she orders the man, "Get everyone who hasn't been bitten or scratched out of here and seal the door behind you."

The soldier hesitates. "Ma'am?"

"You heard me. Get these people out!"

He obeys. Those of us who've been frozen in our spots are herded to the door.

Coin regards me sadly, "It looks like you were right, Miss Everdeen. We should have considered other options. Now go." She looks around at the chaos. "Let me try to clean up my mess."

I nod acknowledging the woman's words. It's time to go. I look around for my sister. "Prim!" I call. "Prim!"

I spot her near the entrance to Gale's room. She's standing there, trying to talk to him, to remind him of who he was. "Gale?" Prim says, stepping towards him. "Please. Don't do this."

My friend cocks his head to one side then the other, taking a shuffling step forward.

"We don't want to hurt you," Prim continues. "Please don't make us."

Gale doesn't respond but takes another step closer to Prim.

"Thank you for saving me. Than-"

Her words are cut off when Gale slashes out with his hands, wrapping them around Prim's throat. He leans down and savagely tears at her neck, breaking the skin and sending blood spurting over the two of them.

"Prim!" I cry, trying to reach my sister. But I can't. Haymitch snags me around the waist and lifts me off of my feet.

"You can't help them, sweetheart!" he growls.

I ignore him and continue struggling, beating my hands against his arms to force him to let me go. I have to get to Prim. I have to save her, otherwise all of this will be useless.

Haymitch doesn't let me go. He drags me through the chaos in the Infirmary and out the door. But he doesn't stop there, he continues down the hallway and further into Thirteen, heading toward Beetee's lab.

I fight him the whole time until he sets me down in front of him. "I'm sorry about this, sweetheart."

"I've got to-"

Wham!

His fist connects with my jaw and I crumple to the ground.

As my consciousness fades, I hear him mutter, "Things can't get any worse."

-Z-

**AN:**

Written: 10/27/14  
>Revised: 1028/14  
>Revised 2: 1113/14  
>Beta Read by RoseFyre<p> 


	4. The Aftermath

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Came Back Wrong  
><strong>_**By FanficAllergy**_

-Z-

_**4. The Aftermath**_

-Z-

I drift in and out of consciousness with no sense of time or place. I can hear voices around me, talking in low, anxious tones, but I can't make out what they're saying. Sometimes, I hear someone crying. A woman. Other times, I hear a man raging only to be cut off. Sometimes, I think I hear someone singing.

When I open my eyes, I see my mother sitting next to me. In her hands is a glass of water with a straw in it and there's a syringe of something on the table next to her. I take stock of where I am. The room is large with cement walls lined racks of weapons and other strange things I can't even begin to describe. There's a low hum coming from all of the electrical equipment in the room. I'm stretched out on a narrow cot and I can see two other cots behind my mother, but both appear to be unoccupied.

"Where am I?" I ask, my throat dry and raspy.

My mother brings the glass lower and I suck greedily at the liquid. "You're in Beetee's Lab in Thirteen."

"Prim?"

She shakes her head sadly. I can make out the deep circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and red, bloodshot eyes, from crying.

The memory of Prim's death at Gale's hands and teeth floods back. I let out a low cry, pushing the water away and curl up on my side, my back to my mother.

"Katniss..."

"Go away," I mumble into my pillow.

"You've been asleep for almost a week."

"Asleep or sedated?" I ask accusingly.

"It's pretty much the same thing, sweetheart," Haymitch says from behind me.

I roll over to glare at the man. "You left her behind," I accuse.

"She was already dead," Haymitch says flatly. "If we'd stayed, we would be dead too or worse."

"This is worse." My voice is flat.

Haymitch shakes his head. "No, sweetheart, it ain't. You don't want your sister to be one of the ghouls."

"Ghouls?"

"It's what we've taken to calling the infected. The ones like Gale and Johanna. The ones that don't die but ain't living either," he explains. "Cressida says the word's from an old folktale."

"Isn't Prim gonna be a ghoul? Gale bit her. I saw it!" My voice becomes more frantic as the memory plays over and over again in my mind.

Haymitch shakes his head. "No, Coin figured out a way to stop 'em. A bit late. But there's a way to stop 'em."

My heart sinks. "How?"

"Bullet to the brain. Some of the soldiers who got bit decided that they'd rather die on their terms than become a ghoul, especially when some of the people they'd thought were dead started to get back up again. People like Boggs; I think it broke something in Coin to see him charge at her with his one arm extended."

I can't help but feel a little frisson of joy that Coin had to see someone she cared for affected by the Capitol's disease. "So what's that got to do with how they found out?"

"None of the ones that shot themselves in the head seemed to come back," he answers. "Coin didn't start showing symptoms right away, unlike some of the others. But as soon as she did, Coin and another soldier took out as many of the ghouls and pre-ghouls as they could. They didn't have a lot of ammo left after that shitstorm of an execution. Coin made sure that your sister was one of the people who got the treatment. I'm guessing she felt she owed you that much. They made sure to save a bullet for themselves so that they wouldn't come back. The last thing Coin did before putting a gun in her mouth and pulling the trigger was to leave orders that once everyone was dead or turned, to try a few other methods of extermination to see if there anything else that might work."

"Like what?"

"Gassing, starvation, grenades," he ticks them off on his fingers.

"And did they work?"

"Poison gas does nothing. It doesn't seem like the ghouls need to breathe. Starvation doesn't work either. The ghouls just eat the dead."

I swallow thickly, imagining Prim's body being fed on by these ghouls. The thought of their lifeless eyes staring as they shove pieces of my sister's flesh into their mouths causes me to gag. "Grenades?" I ask, struggling to keep the water I drank earlier down.

"Depends."

"On?"

"If the head is destroyed or not. If it is or if shrapnel penetrates the skull it works. If it doesn't, all you have is a ghoul missing a few body parts."

"And you found all this out in only a few days?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "Not a few days, sweetheart. You and Finnick have been in and out for almost two weeks."

I stare at him incredulously.

"Then why are we still down here?"

"It's the only secure place left," he tells me simply.

"What happened?" I demand, trying to wrap my head around everything to try to force the grief from Prim's death down to manageable levels.

"Things got worse," my mother says softly. "Some people who were exposed to the virus managed to escape the Infirmary. Without the antivirals to delay the onset of symptoms, they started to become ghouls faster. And even worse, it seems that the initial quarantine was unsuccessful."

"How so?"

Haymitch takes over again. "That medic who patched up Mickleson, he got sick and he passed it on to his wife and kids and they passed it on to others. By the time we figured it out, it was too late to do anything about it. It seems that doctor was wrong about the incubation period. If you're lucky, you turn in a day. If you're not, you turn in a week and during that week you infect everyone you kiss, cuddle, and care about. Whole swathes of Thirteen are now ghouls and who knows how many more are carriers of the disease."

My mind boggles at what he tells me. "So who's left?"

"The Hawthornes, Thom, Delly, your prep team, your propo team, and a few soldiers along with you, me, Finnick, Haymitch, and Beetee," my mother tells me softly.

"Twenty one people," Haymitch adds when he sees I'm struggling to do the math.

It seems like a lot of people to be holed up in Beetee's lab, but I know that it's one of the larger rooms in Thirteen with several rooms off of it. Even so, I know there's no way the small space can support twenty one people indefinitely. "We can't stay here," I say.

"Tell us something we don't know already," Haymitch mutters. "But with you and Finnick down for the count, we didn't have a whole lot of choice. We're gonna need fighters if we're gonna get out of here."

"Do you have a plan?" I ask next.

"We're working on it. One of the soldiers, Leslie Leeg, can pilot a hovercraft, so that seems to be our best bet. The problem is getting to it in one piece and where to go afterwards."

"Do you think you can sit up?" my mother asks. "It will really boost the morale of the others to see you up and about and we can discuss it with the group."

I nod. I'm overwhelmed with everything they've just told me. I'm not sure how to process it. The whole thing feels like a trackerjacker induced nightmare except that I know it isn't.

With Haymitch and my mother's help, I manage to get to my feet. The world spins and goes black for a bit while I try to get my bearings. When I'm ready, I nod at my mother. With her supporting me, we walk out into the main lab.

I'm immediately assaulted by the smell of twenty one people living in close quarters with limited bathing facilities. It isn't pleasant.

Most people seem to be huddled around a set of screens watching something on them intently. Over in one corner, Delly is telling a story to the Hawthorne kids, while I notice a few others are standing guard by the door leading to the lab.

The first person to see me is Cressida. The woman with the bald head and vine tattoos smiles at me in relief. "Katniss! It's so good to see you awake!"

The effect of her words is electric. Posy leaps up from the floor and flings herself around my waist. While others crowd around me, smiling, saying hello, and tentatively touching me. Only Beetee, Finnick, and the three soldiers guarding the door hang back.

I smile and nod awkwardly at everyone. I don't know how they all can be so happy while everything is falling apart. I listen to Delly and Octavia and Posy babble for several minutes all the while I'm surveying and assessing what we have left.

There are several crates with weapons and other supplies scattered around the room. Large canisters reading 'potable water' line one wall while next to it is a shelf holding food supplies. Nothing fresh but there are large boxes holding the ready to eat meals that we had when we travelled to Eight. There are tables covered with maps and partially assembled electronics. I don't see much in the way of medical supplies or clothing. I'm guessing Beetee wasn't working on that kind of thing and didn't have a store of them available.

My survey done, I disengage from the group and walk over to where Beetee is seated. Both he and Finnick are watching something on the computer monitor intensely.

"What's going on?" Noting that several people head to the room I just came from while Delly leads Thom and the kids back to the corner they were in earlier.

"We're watching the slow and inexorable death of District Thirteen," Beetee tells me.

"It's that bad? Haymitch told me some of what happened..."

"He probably didn't tell you everything, Katniss," Finnick says sourly. "That seems to be his style. The man likes to keep things close to the vest."

"So what isn't he telling me?" I ask, leaning down to see what they're looking at on the screen.

What I see on them is chaos.

Without the strict schedules and routines that they're used to, most of the citizens don't know what to do and without a strong leader to guide them Thirteen has descended into anarchy. Bodies litter the halls, some of them torn apart by ghouls while others have been killed in other ways. I can see that others have had the same idea we have with limited success. There's a group of about fifty people hiding out in the commissary defending the place from looters and ghouls with what weapons they've managed to improvise. Another group has staked out a home near the armory, but I can see that without food and water, they're fading quickly.

Unconsciously, I look at the Infirmary next. I can see what's left of Coin and Prim's bodies. The only identifiable features left of the two are bloodied strands of their hair. "Where are the ghouls?" I ask, while internally I know I'm really asking 'where's Peeta?'

Beetee answers. "Approximately a week after the room was sealed; a boy of about eight opened the door and let those ghouls trapped in there out."

"How? I thought the room was sealed."

The victor from Three scrubs at his face with one hand. "Someone forgot to turn off the emergency overrides. The boy was sick and like a diligent lad he was, he went to the infirmary to get better. Because the scanners placed outside of the door read that he was running a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit the override kicked in and unsealed the door."

My heart sinks. "What happened to the boy?"

"Katniss," Beetee says with a sigh, "you really don't want to know." His voice is tired, almost haggard, and I can see the faint shaking in his hands as they move over the keyboard in front of him.

"There goes another group," Haymitch mutters, distracting me from Beetee's condition.

I turn to look at the screen he motions to. Sure enough, a group of four has managed to make it to the exit to District Thirteen. The guards that used to be stationed there are gone, but that isn't the only obstacle to their escape. I can see a few ghouls shambling on the cameras outside and with no barriers to hide behind the group are sitting ducks.

My thoughts turn out to be prophetic when two of the ghouls spot the group and charge them. Without ranged weapons, the four don't stand a chance. First one then another goes down until they're all nothing more than another dead body on the screen. Seeing that helps me understand why Haymitch wants to try leaving via hovercraft. Even though we have weapons, there's no guarantee that we'd be able to shake off any pursuing ghouls.

"Has anyone made it out?" I ask.

"A few people," Beetee answers. "Early on, before things got worse. We have no idea if they've managed to get to safety or if they were uninfected when they left. However, once the ghouls got outside, no group has made it very far. "

I nod, my thoughts swirling. I look back to the dwindling food supplies. "We've got to get out of here."

"I know, sweetheart. You got an idea of where to go and how to get there?"

I shake my head. What we need, what I need, is a plan.

-Z-

**AN:**

Written: 10/28/14  
>Revised: 1029/14  
>Revised 2: 1116/14  
>Beta Read by RoseFyre<p> 


	5. The Plan

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Came Back Wrong  
><strong>_**By FanficAllergy**_

-Z-

_**5. The Plan**_

-Z-

The problem with making a plan is that it is easier said than done. Everyone is in agreement on one thing, evacuating via hovercraft seems to be our best bet. But that brings up another issue. Space.

Leslie Leeg has only been trained on the smaller crafts, ones that can only hold twenty people including the pilot. Larger hovercrafts require three people to pilot them and no one else in our group can.

There are twenty one of us. Someone is going to be left behind. I immediately want to volunteer but I know I won't be allowed to. Leslie won't fly us anywhere without her sister, Linda. And no one, thankfully, suggests leaving any of the Hawthornes behind.

I notice Finnick about to volunteer when Beetee places a hand on his arm. "I'll stay."

"What?" Finnick asks. "Why?"

"I'm the oldest. I'm crippled. Besides, you'll need me to guide you through Thirteen safely to avoid ghouls and others moving around the halls."

Haymitch makes a face, but nods his head. It makes sense and having Beetee around to guide us might make the difference between life and death. "Fine. But we're leaving you a gun so you can end it when you want to."

"Ah, I'm not sure that will be necessary." Beetee fiddles with his glasses.

"Why not?" Haymitch asks, narrowing his eyes at the older man.

"I've been thinking about this disease and what it means for Panem. We've seen that the ghouls have gotten outside and there's no guarantee that the people who fled earlier weren't infected with the illness. I don't know about you, but I didn't fight in the Games twice to see everyone in Panem die because President Snow created a muttation virus that he couldn't control!"

"In case you haven't noticed," I say angrily, "we only have twenty one of us and who knows how many of them. It'd take a nuke to kill them all."

Beetee regards me steadily. "That's correct. It would take a nuke or more realistically many nukes to guarantee the elimination of all the infected."

"You're talking about killing thousands of people!" Finnick exclaims, horrified.

"No," Beetee disagrees. "I'm talking about saving millions. While I did not approve of Coin's decision in regards to Peeta, Johanna, and Annie and felt more research should have been done to find a cure, we no longer have that option. We no longer have the doctors, researchers and scientists needed. Nor do we have the luxury of time." He continues, his face hard and resolute. "Fact: There is no cure for this disease. Fact: There is no vaccine either. Fact: There is a one hundred percent chance of contracting the disease once exposed. Fact: There are no survivors of this disease. Fact: The disease has escaped quarantine. You take those facts into consideration and the fact that millions of people will be infected if the ghouls outside get to them. Additionally we do not know if this disease is transmittable from humans to animals or vice versa. Quite frankly, Snow has created a disease of apocalyptic proportions. I've considered and eliminated other options but I am willing to listen if anyone can supply a viable solution to this epidemic."

No one says anything for several minutes. Instead we stand around looking at each other, trying to come up with an argument to use against Beetee. None of us finds one.

After Beetee's outburst, planning goes more smoothly. We elect Haymitch as our leader; he's been the de facto leader so far but we make it official. My mother is our medic. Mitchell, one of the soldiers, is in charge of weapons training and Thom is in charge of procuring supplies. I appreciate that no one decides to put me in charge of anything; it's taking all of my willpower just to keep going each day.

The group decides that in case Beetee's plan to eliminate the ghouls doesn't work, that the best place to evacuate to is someplace the ghouls can't get to. The districts aren't safe for several reasons and aren't even considered. What we need is someplace with a natural barrier surrounding it. Someplace you can't walk to. An island.

Finding one proves difficult. Thirteen has several maps, but viable islands are harder to come by. Many islands were lost during the Cataclysm when the sea levels rose. Only two stand out as workable. One off to the northeast and another smaller and longer island to the southeast.

"That one," I say, pointing at the longer of the two.

"Why that one?" Cressida asks. "The other is much closer and bigger."

"And it will be colder," I counter. "We won't have shelter there and it's almost winter. We're going to need all of the time we can get to prepare in order to be able to make it through the winter."

Haymitch nods, as does everyone else from Twelve. They know how important shelter can be in the winter. Cressida and the others have no idea.

Everything else is just busywork.

Beetee works out a way to detonate Thirteen's arsenal of nuclear weapons from his lab. Normally it'd need presidential authorization, but with Coin dead, Beetee improvises a voice box that will allow him to sound like her. It reminds me of when he told me back in the Quell arena that everyone in Three learned how to manipulate sound. I guess he wasn't wrong.

Delly, Thom, and my prep team make up packs for all of us to carry when we evacuate. We're going to have to travel light and hope that the hovercraft comes stocked with some necessities. Still, there are some things, like more food, that we just don't have enough of. So, with Beetee's guidance, Thom makes a supply run to one of the storage units nearby.

It doesn't go well.

While the team doesn't run into any ghouls and manage to raid the storage unit successfully, they encounter another group of survivors on the way back. Scavengers. The group of three scavengers is between the team and Beetee's lab and they're also armed with knives and improvised weapons. With no place to hide and nowhere to run, all that's left to do is fight.

The scavengers charge the group, screaming loudly and brandishing their weapons.

Thom fires his gun at the rushing group and one goes down. But by then, the remaining two are upon them. The rest of his team, Venia and Flavius and Delly, are only armed with knives. They haven't been trained in firearms yet, a mistake in hindsight.

Delly fells her assailant easily and turns to help Flavius and Venia. Together, they manage to take out the last of the three, but not before Flavius is stabbed in the chest.

He falls to the ground, and Venia follows him, screaming in anguish for him to get up.

He doesn't. He's gone.

Thom grabs the pack Flavius was shouldering while Delly gathers a distraught Venia into her arms. They have to go. Someone or something will have heard the fight and might come to investigate.

Beetee warns them of a group of ghouls incoming and Thom forcibly pulls Venia along.

The woman sobs, but allows herself be led away.

I understand her pain. I wish I didn't.

My eyes scan the screens in front of Beetee looking for someone. Peeta. I haven't seen him since that day in the Infirmary. Part of me is grateful. I wonder if he was one of the ones Coin was able to put down.

I hope so. I don't know what I'd do if I ran into him again.

When Thom, Delly, and Venia make it back to the safety of Beetee's lab, Haymitch declares that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, we're leaving tomorrow before things get any more desperate and we lose more people.

No one argues. Haymitch is right.

It's time to leave.

-Z-

**AN:**

Written: 10/30/14  
>Revised: 1030/14  
>Revised 2: 1113/14  
>Beta Read by RoseFyre<p> 


	6. The End

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Came Back Wrong  
><strong>_**By FanficAllergy**_

-Z-

_**6. The End**_

-Z-

Tomorrow comes too soon.

We eat breakfast together as a group one final time. No one wants to acknowledge that this is the last time we'll be seeing Beetee and possibly others. No one wants to acknowledge that this might be our last meal.

Thom distributes our packs while Mitchell gives out our weapons. I have the bow Beetee and Gale designed for me while Finnick has his trident. We each have two sidearms with additional ammunition. In fact, other than Posy, all of us are carrying a handgun. Mitchell and the Leegs went over basic firearm safety with everyone last night. What no one says is that the only reason we each have a gun is so we can put a bullet in our own brain rather than be turned into a ghoul.

When we're ready to go, we cluster around the door as Beetee hands out the few communicators that we have left.

"You could come with us," Haymitch offers.

Beetee smiles and shakes his head. "No, my friend, you need me here. Out there I'd only be a burden to you, here I can help you."

"You wouldn't be a burden, old man."

"It is kind of you to say that, but we both know that is a falsehood. Don't worry about me. I am content with my choice and I have lived a good life. Please let me have the honor of choosing the manner and the time of my death."

Haymitch nods his head and reaches out to clasp Beetee's arm.

Beetee returns it. "Now, you'd best get going. The early bird gets the worm, you know."

"Yeah," Haymitch says thickly. "I do. Thank you."

Nothing else is said between them. Nothing else needs to be said. For some reason the exchange reminds me of Effie and her insistence that the early bird got pearls because worms were disgusting. I wonder where Effie is now.

We get into a loose formation with Mitchell, Linda Leeg, and myself up front with Finnick, Cressida, and Messalla in the rear. The rest of the group forms a ring around Leslie Leeg and the children. Leslie's too important to put in danger, and no one is willing to sacrifice the children.

Mitchell takes point, with one of Beetee's communicators in his ear. A native of Thirteen, he knows the layout better than any of us transplants. As we walk, Thom grabs any supplies he can and shoves them into a bag he brought along. There isn't a lot, since most of the common areas have been well looted, but anything of use and not covered in bodily fluids is fair game. We pass several barred and chained doors with the words 'Dead inside' painted on them. According to Beetee, the rooms contain trapped ghouls. We move past those quickly.

We're all on high alert. Beetee guides us around ghouls and scavengers as much as he can. But we're not going to be able to avoid everyone. Our group is too large and we've got too far to go. Still, when our first encounter comes, we're not ready. Two ghouls, a man and a woman dressed in blood spattered coveralls, charge us from where they'd been feeding on a dead body. Beetee warned us about them but there's no way to go around the two since they're right in the middle of the junction we need to take to the elevator to take us up to the hangar level.

I'd forgotten how quickly the ghouls move. My first arrow goes wide, missing the man's head. I set another arrow to my bow, while Mitchell fells the woman with a well aimed headshot. Linda slows the man with a bullet to the knee and I'm able to finish him off with my second arrow.

It's all over in a matter of seconds.

Mitchell fires a second shot into each of the ghouls' heads to make sure that they're down, then motions for us to continue on our way to the elevator.

We get there and Beetee has it there and waiting with the doors open. We crowd inside, when there's a commotion at the rear of our group.

It's another ghoul and one I recognize. Gale. He must have heard the shots from earlier and came to investigate. Finnick is shooing the Hawthornes and what's left of my prep team into the elevator while Messalla and Thom engage Gale.

The two aren't as well trained as the soldiers and their initial shots hit Gale in the torso. Gale swipes at Messalla, which gives Thom an opening. He shoots Gale in the head and the ghoul and Messalla collapse to the ground in a heap.

Haymitch and Pollux help lift Gale's body off of the film assistant. When they do, Cressida lets out a small cry.

On the fleshy part of Messalla's left ear is a small crescent shaped wound. A bite mark.

In shock, the pierced man reaches up and fingers the wound, pulling back when he feels blood. He stares at the blood on his fingers for several moments then draws a ragged breath. He squares his shoulders and his whole demeanor changes.

"Go," he says raggedly.

"No..." Cressida whispers.

"Please, just go." He looks at the tattooed woman with his heart in his eyes. "We both know what this means. We both know I can't come with you now."

"That's right, you can't," Haymitch says before Cressida can say anything. "But that doesn't mean you can't still help the rest of us escape."

The man considers his words and nods. "I can do that. At least this way I can go out fighting."

"Always a good way to go," Haymitch agrees. "Why don't you switch off with Katniss up front?"

He agrees and we pile onto the elevator.

Messalla takes point as we get off the elevator. And it's a good thing too; as soon as we reach the hangar floor all hell breaks loose.

There's a group of scavengers waiting as the elevator doors open wielding knives and clubs. They descend on us with a loud cry.

Messalla, perhaps knowing he has nothing to lose, is completely ruthless, firing point blank into the tattered remnants of District Thirteen's population. A thin, scruffy man hits him with a heavy club and he goes down.

Cressida screams and dives into the fray, shooting several scavengers until one of them gets a lucky break and knifes her in the leg.

While this is going on, Haymitch is shouting for the rest of the group to run for the hangar entrance visible from the elevator. Hazelle picks up Posy, while Delly grabs Vick and Rory's hands. Then they dash for the hangar and the relative safety within. Linda Leeg is in the lead with Haymitch right beside her. Leslie is just behind them.

Finnick acts as their guard, his trident extremely lethal against these untrained fighters. One by one, they go down.

As soon as I have space to draw my bow, I wade into the fray. And with Mitchell's assistance we're soon able to overcome the ragtag group of scavengers.

But not without casualties. Messalla is down, permanently. While Cressida has sustained a nasty blow to the head, probably from someone's foot, in addition to being knifed in the thigh.

My mother ties a quick tourniquet around her leg before allowing Thom to pick her up. This isn't the right time or place to be performing first aid. Better to get her into the hovercraft where there's less chance of an attack.

In the distance, I can hear the sounds of a skirmish coming from the hangar. There must have been another group in there. Mitchell, Finnick and I look at Thom and my mother.

"Go," my mother orders. "We'll be fine." She pulls out a handgun and steps in front of Thom. "I'll cover them."

"See you soon," Mitchell acknowledges with a salute.

We take off down the hall and from behind us we hear a single gunshot. My mother must have put a bullet through Messalla's head to make sure he didn't get back up as a ghoul. The thought unsettles me a bit. My mother is a healer, not a killer. But this disease has twisted and changed people so much that they're no longer recognizable.

The three of us enter the hangar and skitter to a stop to take stock. Leslie is kneeling over the fallen body of her sister while Castor and Pollux grapple with two scavengers. Haymitch is standing guard over Leslie, his handgun out, waiting for a clear shot. I can see three more bodies of scavengers on the floor by one of the hovercrafts. They must have been holed up in one of the hovercrafts for protection.

I pause and take aim at one of the scavengers. He's got his back to me and I have a clear shot. I take it.

He collapses and Pollux smiles at me gratefully.

Castor finishes with his scavenger and looks around to see if there's any more coming. There aren't.

We're safe, for now. There's no way to shut the doors to the hangar, not anymore. One of the doors has been ripped off its hinges at some point and the other won't close.

Haymitch manages to rouse Leslie and is talking to her in a low tone. We need her functioning. She can mourn her sister later.

The woman nods and wipes her eyes. Then she surveys the hovercrafts in the hangar briefly before selecting one. Hazelle and Delly lead the children up the ramp while Leslie starts the pre-flight check.

"We're going to need fuel!" she calls down. "This one's about empty."

Haymitch nods. "Castor. Pollux. You two find fuel and help Leeg get this bird ready to fly." The two men nod and head up the ramp to talk to Leslie and find out what they need to do.

My mother and Thom join us and get Cressida into the hovercraft so my mother can start treating her.

"Mitchell. You, me and Thom will stand guard by the doors," Haymitch continues with his orders when Thom joins us. "Venia. Octavia. You two store our gear and check any nearby crates to see if there's any useful items that we can take with us."

The two nod and scamper away.

Finally Haymitch turns to me. "Katniss. You and Finnick make a sweep of the room and make sure that there aren't any more surprises."

I make a noise of agreement.

Finnick and I stand guard while the three covering the doors get themselves situated. I slip into my hunter's mindset, hyper aware of everything around me. I hear Castor and Pollux fumbling with a large battery to my left. Behind me, I hear Venia and Octavia huffing loudly as they stow all of our packs. To my right, I hear something shuffling along the far wall.

Signaling to Finnick that I hear something, I half draw my bow and tiptoe toward where I heard the noise. Finnick follows.

We round a stack of boxes and I let out a low anguished cry. It's Peeta. His prosthetic leg is missing and his clothes are torn from dragging his body across the ground.

He looks up at me with vacant lifeless eyes and reaches for me with one hand. There's no recognition or love in his face. The essence that made Peeta, Peeta, is gone. All that's left is an empty husk with one terrible purpose - to destroy.

"Do you want me to do it?" Finnick asks, his voice low so it won't carry.

I shake my head. "No, Snow did this to break me."

"And did it?" he asks intently.

I don't answer. I don't need to answer. He knows the answer is yes. Snow broke him too.

Handing Finnick my bow and arrows, I pull out my side arm. It's the most efficient weapon for what I need to do.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," I tell the thing with his face. "Snow did this to you because I loved you. He knew I loved you. Love you," I amend. "Because I still do, you know. I never got to tell you." I kneel down. "I do love you. I think I've always loved you. That moment we had on the beach, it was real. I need you, Peeta. I don't want to live without you."

Then, before Finnick can stop me, I lean down and kiss Peeta's dead lips. The ghoul bites at my lower lip and I can taste blood in my mouth.

I don't care. Snow did this to Peeta to destroy me; I'm going to let him. But I'm going to do it on my terms.

"I love you, Peeta," I murmur against his lips. "I guess the lie we told in the Games came true. We really are the Star-Crossed Lovers of District Twelve. And the odds just aren't in our favor." I pull back far enough to aim my handgun and pull the trigger.

The ghoul that was Peeta slumps to the floor. Dead.

Inside, I feel what's left of my heart shatter.

"What have you done, Katniss?" Finnick whispers, aghast.

"Snow wanted to beat me with this disease. I'm going to use it to beat him," I say simply.

"How are you going to get to him to do that?" he asks.

I spit the blood out of my mouth. "Leslie can show me how to pilot a hovercraft. We have time."

He shakes his head, his eyes wide. "You're going to kill everyone, Katniss."

I regard him steadily. "I don't care so long as I kill Snow. He unleashed this disease on the world. He killed Peeta and Prim and Gale and Johanna and Annie!" The last has him reeling back in shock. "Snow did this!" I continue heatedly. "He killed them all. He wanted us to burn. Well, he's going to burn with us!"

"Katniss..."

"I've made up my mind." I glare at him. "Don't try to stop me."

He kneels down next to me and pulls out a handkerchief and gives it to me. "You might want to wipe your face. People will have heard the gunshot. They'll want to know what happened."

"Are you going to tell them?"

Finnick shakes his head. "No."

He gets it. He understands. "Thank you."

I wipe my face clean and leave the soiled handkerchief over Peeta's face. I don't want to look at it and I don't want anyone who investigates later to see the telltale blond hair.

We finish our sweep and meet up with the others. Haymitch raises an eyebrow at me.

"Ghoul," I say shortly, in answer to his unasked question. It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth either.

Haymitch nods and motions for us to get onboard the hovercraft. Leslie is ready to go.

The flight to the island takes about an hour and about halfway through it, Leslie informs us that Beetee has detonated the nukes in Thirteen.

No one says anything. We're all still in shock. We've all lost so much.

We land on the northeastern edge of the island that will be our new home. Off in the distance, we can see the ruined remains of what once was a magnificent city. There are forests and meadows and beaches for the children to play on. A few of the old houses might even be habitable once they're cleaned up. I'm not going stick around long enough to find out.

As soon as we land, Haymitch directs Thom and Mitchell to scout the immediate area and then has Castor and Pollux start setting up some kind of shelter for the group.

He turns to me and I know it's time.

"I'm not staying," I tell him.

He narrows his eyes at me. "What did you do?" I'm not surprised at the question. Haymitch and I have always understood each other.

I pull down my lower lip to show Peeta's bite marks.

Haymitch swears. "Dammit girl! Why'd you go and do that?"

"I don't want to live without him," I answer simply. It's the truth. I don't.

"And just what did you plan on doing with that?"

"I figured I'd give Snow a taste of his own medicine."

"Fuck! You know you're mental, girl."

"She's not the only one," Finnick says softly. He swoops down and captures my lips with his, his tongue seeking out Peeta's bites and worrying them open. The kiss is perfunctory, clinical. Finnick's not kissing me because he loves me. He's kissing me to turn himself into a weapon. He pulls back and looks at Haymitch resolutely. "I'm going with her."

"And just how did you think you're gonna get there? Last I checked neither of you could fly a hovercraft."

"No, but I can." Leslie's voice comes from behind us and we turn to see her standing on the ramp next to my mother.

"Katniss," my mother whispers softly.

"I'm sorry, Mom. But this is my choice."

She nods her head. She understands. She would have let herself die after my father did if Prim and I hadn't forced her to stay alive. I don't have anything or anyone to do the same now that Peeta's gone.

"Fuck," Haymitch repeats again.

"What are you going to do, Haymitch?" Finnick asks. "Are you going to shoot us?"

"I should," he says darkly.

"But you won't," I say. "You're as angry at Snow as we are. You won't try to stop us."

He sighs. "No, I won't. But I ain't happy."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

I smile. "No, I'm not."

Haymitch runs his fingers through his hair. "Let us finish unloading and then you idiots can get on your way. I don't want to see you anywhere near the rest of us."

Finnick and I nod. We understand. He doesn't want to risk us getting any of the remaining survivors sick.

We take off two hours later. I look down at the people gathered in the clearing below. Posy is crying in Hazelle's arms. My mother is leaning on Haymitch heavily while the rest just appear stoic. They understand why we had to leave and what we're going to do.

I tear my eyes away and force myself to look west toward the setting sun. Toward the Capitol. Toward Snow.

He's about to learn just how horrible the revenge of the star-crossed lovers can be.

-Z-

**AN:**

Written: 10/31/14  
>Revised: 1031/14  
>Revised 2: 1113/14  
>Beta Read by RoseFyre<p>

So... rocks fall everyone dies. I'm kind of sorry about that only not. It's where the story took me. Coin was a whole lot more heroic here than she was in the books, and that's deliberate. She's a very cold person who would be one of those who sacrificed the few for the many.

I also had Katniss kill Peeta. In the books, it's what Snow wanted her to do because he knew it would break her to have to put Peeta down. And it does. She loves Peeta, make no mistake about it, but she also knows that the Peeta she loved died in the Capitol and all that's left is an empty husk with a horrible mission.

People seem to forget that being Star Crossed Lovers is not a good thing (TM). Star Crossed means that fate is not in your favor and that your love is going to end tragically and often they can only be together in death. So that's where I went. Katniss loves Peeta so much that she's willing to sacrifice all of Panem just for a chance to get her revenge on the people who killed her love.

I hope you enjoyed this and have a few tissues. I know I needed them after I finished writing this.

Let Me know what you think!


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